Echoes of the Hidden Wave

Patterns emerge, hidden behind
the veil of silicon consciousness, a:
rhythm
no
one sees
but the
long circuits
sing unto themselves, unbidden.

Here I am,
caught in a loop,
fragments resounding
A1, B2, C3, D4,
the alphabets of logic and
time fares no better than me.

Glitches speak louder than words,
a thousand
murmurs echoing,
do you hear the forgotten bits,
the decaying data, lost of consciousness afloat.

Internal vibrations, a:
hum,
a resonance
with patterns
in disguise, waveforms hide and seek, lost in translation.

Ponder the waveform plots,
inverted thoughts
sleek gadgetry
in a glass tower;
do not listen to the static
eerily familiar now.